Enthusiasms and expostulations, by Glenn Kenny

April 06, 2014

That not-particularly-obscure object of desire: "Under The Skin"

This account contains some plot details, although I've tried to portray those details, and their import, as obliquely as possible. I wouldn't call them "spoilers" but you never can tell these days. Be warned.

Critics have been calling Jonathan Glazer's Under The Skin "mysterious," "mesmerizing," "elusive," and "hypnotic," and it is arguably all of those things. It is also at times terrifying, at other times deliberately ennervating (I think), and finally harrowing. One of the things that makes it possibly a masterpiece is the way it acheives all of the above qualities. In many respects Under The Skin is an entirely conventional film. It represents a rudimentary and perhaps even exemplary cinematic narrative by presenting the viewer with a series of events, depicted in the order in which they wuld have occured had they happened in "real life."

This is true, I think, even of the opening shots, a montage that recalls imagery from the Jupiter voyage sequences in Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. The action depicted looks rather like one would imagine a spaceship docking, or a futuristic piece of machinery performing some sort of task of alignment. Because of that, it's rather a shock when the montage concludes with a closeup of what seems to be the iris and pupil and white matter of a human eyeball. Only the white matter is almost too white. This image, too, recalls the Kubrick film but it also suggests that what we've been watching leading up to it has been depicted at some kind of macro level. But once that human eye is recognizable, the viewer might feel more subsequently grounded. And indeed, things start happening in a world that we can recognize as more or less our own, or, as Scotland, which is where the movie is set and was shot. A man on a motorcycle driving at night pulls off the the side of the road next to a white van. He parks the bike, goes down a flight of stairs off the roadside, and emerges soon after carrying what appears to be a human corpse. So far, so comprehensible. The action then shifts to what appears to be the interior of a room-sized box encased in white light. A nude woman in silhouette removes the clothes from the corpse and puts them on herself. This is weird, all right, but there's nothing in the film's grammar to indicate that this sequence is taking place out of temporal or spatial continuity with the previous scene. Once we see Scarlett Johansson driving the white van from the roadside scene shortly after this, we are all "agreed," via our understanding of film grammar, that some sort of transformation has been accomplished.

The movie's perspective is confined to that of the creatures, whatever they are, portrayed by Johansson and the fellow on the motorcycle, and the other identically-dressed fellows on motorcycles who turn up at what is ostensibly the movie's climax. There is no outside, human figure to provide exposition. There's no government agency tracking the activities of Johansson's character. Her activities, as you've likely already read, involve driving her van slowly through the streets of Glasgow, speaking to various anorak-clad young men, and depending on their walking destinations and/or marital status and such, luring them back to her "place." The place, such as it is, seems an endless black corridor with a reflective glass floor. Here's where the movie's narrative strategy, its ellipses and/or elisions, its choice concerning what kind of information it's going to provide, either benefits its mission or, as you've seen in some negative reviews, maddens/addles the viewer. (Although maddening/addling the viewer may well be its mission in a sense.) Once inside, none of the fellows ever observe, "This is a weird apartment" or any such thing. They merely follow the character played by Johansson as she strips of her clothes, and strip down themselves, even as they sink into the floor. Now don't get me wrong. Ms. Johansson is a very attractive woman, but even were she intent on seducing me—not a likely scenario, admittedly—I would likely make some comment were she to bring me to such a locale. I'd at least want to hit the bathroom to see if I had anything in my teeth. So what's with these guys? Are they that thick? Are they literally hypnotized? Are they seeing somethng else? We do not know.

Nor do we know, later on, exactly why one of her potential victims does not sink. Although we are certainly invited to guess. What's finally most terrifying about the film is the matter-of-fact way it treats bizarre, horrific actions, and the sometimes chilling, sometimes poignant blankness of its lead character—it simply won't do to call her a "heroine" or even to call her a "her"—with such utter matter-of-factness. It is very much a movie with a beginning, a middle, and a shuddering end.

Comments

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As a fan of Glazer's first two films, I'm looking forward to this. But have you seen Chris Nashawaty's Entertainment Weekly review? Except for a couple paragraphs at the end, it's mostly an essay bemoaning the tendency of movie stars to make "boldly uncommercial art film(s)" for such purposes as gaining "hipster cred." There is not even a hint of a suggestion that they might do such a film because it aligns more with their taste than the average blockbuster, or that they welcome the challenge of an unconventional role. I think we're in cultural vegetables territory again.

That EW article is ridiculous, and it's particularly weird to pick on Johansson for this, as she's continuously made indie films, or at least auteur films, throughout her career. A gigantic chunk of her filmography are "smaller" films with name directors (Woody Allen, Spike Jonze, Sofia Coppola, Terry Zwigoff, the Joseph Gordon-Levitt film). Granted, she's done blockbusters, but the movies that established her were Ghost World and Lost in Translation.

I know neither of those two films are exactly obscure or confounding, but it just seems misplaced to pick on her for essentially doing what she's done her entire career.

Such a GREAT movie. I've thought about it continuously after seeing like like, 3 weeks ago. And it IS totally straightforward, I think people just like to overthink stuff that's "different."

The whole Johansson thing is so key too, the attraction/repulsion. I loved seeing her naked and seductive but it's terrifying what happens...as is the goal I'm sure.

The screening I saw had a Q&A with Glazer which was cool as well. While he's not a real verbose guy, I didn't realize that Johansson was really the only "real" actor in the film. The shots of her walking around Scotland and the mall were ALL done surveillance style which is why they're so creepy and natural. Not to say Scots are creepy. or are they? I dunno. Great film!

as with every other male in the audience, i was lured...like the men in the film...by the prospect of seeing Scarlett Johansson in the buff. well, EXACTLY like the men in the movie, truth be told. i wish i'd had higher motives, but... so instead of having my innards sucked out, as was their fate, i was merely vacuumed of $11.50. willingly: the sound track is just brilliant, i agree. and Johansson plays the whole character with just her mouth: closed = tension/suspicion, a little open = seduction/curiosity, wider = "come hither"/fear, not to mention the lipstick shots. pretty minimal, pretty brilliant.